


Strictly Professional

by LikeMmmCookies



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Boss/Employee Relationship, Car Sex, Choking, Dominant Ben Solo, Dominant Rey, F/M, Light Dom/sub, Nipple Play, Office Crushes, Office Romance, Office Sex, Oral Sex, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-11-15
Packaged: 2019-05-08 18:30:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 8,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14699826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LikeMmmCookies/pseuds/LikeMmmCookies
Summary: Ben isn't just Rey's boss. He's her boss's boss's boss. But that doesn't stop them from getting close. Too close. (Aka Rey and Ben don't know how to deal with inappropriate crushes that HR definitely shouldn't know about)Rating will change!





	1. Choke me harder, Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a drabble I wrote on my lunch at work and then exploded. I wrote the whole thing in one afternoon (but of course I cant stop rewriting things) instead of working on chapters for my other two unfinished fics, which people actually want more chapters of. But instead I wrote this piece of garbage! I may or may not be trying to deal with my own office sexual tension and so I've channeled it into Reylo because that is what Well Adjusted people do. :/ It's pretty sloppy but I had fun.

“Rey, Rey! Hey! REY!”

Rey jolts when Finn waves a hand in front of her face. “Hello, are you alive in there?”

Her eyes skitter over one of her wide monitors to the dark head of hair bent over another developer’s desk across her office section. She thinks, not for the first time, about how much she loves the open-floor layout.

“What can possibly be more interesting than an invitation to lunch?” Finn quizzes her.

“Ah, I was just trying to figure out this defect.” She motions to the code crawling across one of her monitors. But her traitorous eyes skip over to the dark-haired figure again. Said figure had straightened up, revealing his broad shoulders and solidly built chest. Even from three rows of desks over, Rey could see the buttons on his shirt straining against his pecs.

Finn follows her line of sight and then rolls his eyes. “I know he’s pretty but he’s our boss. Come on Rey. LUNCH. Food. Heaven.”

“He’s everyone’s boss,” she murmurs half to herself, watching him again as he left the desk and went back to his office. Louder to Finn she adds “I brought lunch today, let me grab it and I’ll meet you by the doors.”

Finn nods and heads off, Poe and Rose in tow.

Rey grabs her water bottle and wallet off her desk and takes a breath, straightening her shoulders before she walks past a small conference room and an office. _His_ office. She forces herself to not so much as glance to her right.

She fetches her lunch out of the break room fridge, pausing near the sink as she fiddles with her water bottle lid. Rey feels a draft and then a soft touch on her lower back.

“Hey, stranger.”

Ben slides past her and Rey’s heart picks up a troubling pace as she turns to see him watching her. A slight smile plays at the corner of his lips while he fills his mug with coffee.

“Hi,” she responds, thinking her voice sounds painfully breathy.

“Haven’t talked to you in a while,” he remarks, taking a step towards her with his full mug.

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Been pretty busy. I haven’t been working on the integration tests lately, I’ve been tied up with another domain.”

He nods, leaning slightly towards her. “I’ve been meaning to touch base on the inventory project. How’s that coming along?”

Rey struggles not to get distracted by the sight of his long, balanced fingers wrapped around his mug as he raises it to his lips for a small sip. A cartoonish figure stamped across the front catches her attention: Darth Vader, one arm stretched out in his iconic choking gesture. Ben’s fingers obscured the text underneath.

“What does your mug say?”

Ben falters at her abrupt change, blinking mid-sip before he moves his hand for her to read the text under the picture.

“Who’s your daddy?” Rey reads off the mug. She raises her eyes to his with a mischievous glint. “That’s kinky.”

He chokes, spitting out a mouthful of coffee. She tosses him a sly smile as she floats out of the breakroom, leaving him sputtering and stunned.

Rey strides down to the cafeteria as quickly as she can without looking weird, her heart pounding so hard she can hear the blood rushing in her ears. What the _hell_? Where did that come from? She feels as shocked as Ben looked. He wasn’t just her boss. He was her boss’s boss’s boss. He was the boss of everyone in the building. And she’d just looked him straight in the face and told him that his mug was kinky. Rey doesn’t know where the comment came from. She does not do things like that at work. Hell, she _never_ does things like that.

Her heart pounds all the way through lunch. Finn stops in the middle of a conversation to ask if she’s okay.

“You look flushed,” he tells her. “Do you have a fever?”

“Nope,” she squeaks. “Just a little overheated today.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Overheated? You’re _always_ cold here. Like always. Like so cold that your lips turn blue and the IT help guy asks if you’re alright.”

“That was one time,” she mutters. Finn gives her another piercing look, but lets it go.


	2. Off-limits

Ben approaches Rey’s desk and reminds himself that he _wasn’t_ nervous, his palms are just sweaty and his heart is pounding because he’s stressed out about regular things. Not because he’s about to talk to one of his developers. That wouldn’t make any sense. Even if she is a charming, witty, intelligent young woman with a wide smile and a nose crinkle that did funny things to his heart. He tells himself that it’s _completely_ inappropriate to feel that way about her. It doesn’t help.

She’s coding when he reaches her; her fingers fly across her keyboard as the colorful text marches across a black screen. She bobs slightly and moves from foot to foot, and Ben realizes she’s dancing to the throbbing music he barely hears from her headphones.

“Rey?”

She doesn’t so much as blink. He steps closer and calls her name again. Her eyes remain glued to the screen, her eyebrows knitted in concentration. Adorable, beautiful concentration. He moves to tap her shoulder but the motion comes off as a soft brush, his fingers dragging along her silky blouse.

She jumps when she sees him and embarrassment crosses her face when she realizes he caught her dancing. He can’t resist a tiny smile that crinkles the corners of his eyes. She stares at him in a daze, eyes wide and blank. He gestures to her headphones and he swears a rosy color stains her cheeks as she pulls them down around her neck.

“Usually when people look like that it’s because I caught them on Facebook,” he quips.

She blinks at him, eyes still distant. After a beat, she lets out a half-hearted chuckle. Ben presses his lips together and steps back. _Dumb, dumb, don’t try to be funny,_ he berates himself.

He clears his throat. “I came over to ask if you want to meet about that inventory project you just started.”

She smirks slightly. “Setting up those meetings is my job, Ben.”

His chest hitches at the sound of his name rolling off her lips. He presses his lips together again. “Right, well. Yes. I’m just telling you, I’m happy to meet about it.”

Her smirk widens. “I’ll put something on your calendar.”

Once safely back in his office with the door shut, he collapses into his chair, heart pounding. He was Ben Solo, Vice President of the First Order software division. Nothing makes him nervous. Not deadlines, not coding fiascos, nothing. Except for one thing. One hazel-eyed self-assured developer who somehow turns him into a choking-on-coffee, babbling idiot. This is so inappropriate, he reminds himself. She was totally, completely off-limits.

He was so fucked.


	3. Dilemmas

Rey’s fingers pause over her keys and she takes a deep breath, reminding herself to pay attention. She’d run into an urgent issue at 4pm on a Friday, and the lead System Analyst she would usually go to was out sick. She _hated_ bothering Ben about it, he was too busy for this kind of thing. But she’d messaged him anyway. It was really important. Mostly. Pretty important.

A ‘quick question’ had turned into a long explanation that just left her more confused. _Just call me,_ he’d told her. He was working from home that day, which meant they couldn’t have this conversation in person. She was _not_ disappointed about that. She wasn’t. _He’s off-limits,_ she reminds herself.

Even over a call, slightly muffled by her headset, Rey finds his rich, dulcet voice completely entrancing.

“Does that make sense?”

His question registers too slowly. She shakes herself out her reverie. _Fuck._ “Ummm…yeah,” she answers weakly. She imagines Ben on the other side with that amused smirk he gets when he knows something was complete bullshit.

He laughs a little and a thread of electricity shoots through Rey’s core. “Somehow, I’m not convinced,” he tells her.

“It’s almost 6pm,” she responds, voice stronger. “You’ll have to live with that answer till Monday.”

He chuckles again. “Well this is my cell number, so if you have _urgent_ questions or other dilemmas again over the weekend, you know where to find me.”

Rey freezes. He gave her his _cell_ number and not a work number? Her breaths quicken and she crosses her legs, trying to alleviate the growing heat there. “I really can’t think of a single reason why I would ever need to talk to you outside work,” she quickly answers, her teasing tone easing her harsh words.

Silence on the other line. Rey winces, thinking maybe the teasing didn’t make it across and she’d just deeply insulted him instead.

“Yes, okay. I understand,” he answers, voice a little flat. She winces harder. “Have a good weekend, Rey.”

“You too, Ben.” Her headphone beeps as the session ends.

She had no reason to text him, she tells herself. She really didn’t. _Do not put his number in your phone._ She stares intently at the string of numbers in his last message to her in their chat-box. _Do. Not._ She has no reason to text him.

But she’s creative. She could think of a reason. She could think of a hundred.

Ben checks his phone obsessively all weekend and feels a tiny ping of disappointment every time a new text comes with a name instead of just an unfamiliar number. He recalls her words the Friday before and shame curls in his belly when he thinks of how quickly she shot him down. She was right, they were coworkers. Everything needed to stay strictly professional.

That didn’t stop his heart from jumping when he got a text Sunday night from a number he didn’t recognize.

_What qualifies as an ‘urgent’ question? What if I have a moral dilemma?_

He laughs to himself. Of course she wouldn’t even say hello or explain the text was from her, or even a flimsy attempt to start the conversation off with a work topic. She was so bold around him, letting comments and statements fly with absolute confidence that she could get away with them.

They text back and forth all evening, and then much later than either of them should have been up. He lays in bed with phone in hand, staring at the last text she’d sent.  
_Don’t be weird about this tomorrow. I’ll say hi and then you’ll ask me how my weekend was and then I’ll ask you. This isn’t a thing. Good night, Ben._

 _It sure feels like a thing,_ he thinks as he drifts off.


	4. Different

The next week, Rey finds herself torn between avoiding Ben and stalking him. One hour she’s scurrying the other way when she sees him in the hallway, the next, she’s suspiciously walking into the breakroom right after he stops for a coffee refill. Ben definitely isn’t doing the same. He appears in the cafeteria just as she’s leaving. They greet each other and chat, lingering between the sliced chicken and the tub of spinach until other people give them angry looks. He comes striding down the hall on her way back from the bathroom. He’s everywhere.

They text every evening. Long, drawn-out conversations about their childhoods and politics and absolutely nothing even remotely related to their work. Rey doesn’t know what she’s doing. She doesn’t know what this is. All she knows is that they connect in a way she hasn’t felt in a really long time, and that every look between them at work suddenly feels like a secret and even the shortest conversations with him make her heart race for hours afterwards.

One Sunday afternoon, she casually mentions she’s working in a coffee shop near where they both live.

 _I love the atmosphere at La Belle. It’s so chill and just_ normal. _My favorite place to work._

_Are you going to be online this afternoon? I’ve got this question about one of the integration tests._

**_I love La Belle. They have great espresso._ **

**_Yeah, I’m planning to log on pretty soon._ **

_I’ll probably wait till Monday to ask it, I think it’s too hard to explain over a chat._

**_I mean, I could just swing by. La Belle is like a five minute walk from my place._ **

_Well, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble, I won’t say no._

**_I’ll see you in a few._ **

Rey immediately starts hyperventilating. What was she thinking?? True, she’d been sure to mention earlier that week that she liked to work in coffee shops over the weekend, and yes, he’d told her that he also had a lot of work to do this weekend, and okay, she had told him a couple days before that some of his questions about her thoughts on religion and spirituality were too complicated for texts and she’d explain them in person sometime. But she didn’t actually think he’d say yes. She picks at the flannel she’d pulled on over a ratty band tee and readjusted her beanie. Oh god, why did she wear this? She looks down at her combat boots and tries to scrape some of the mud off the side of one.

_No make up, hair’s a mess. Shoes are dirty. I look very much like I’m 21. Oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT._

She counts her breaths for a couple minutes and then spreads out her papers farther and stares at the code in front of her, trying to look very focused. She pretends not to hear the door open or the draft of unseasonably chilly air against her cheek. She doesn’t recognize the completely familiar tread of Ben’s gait, because that would be incredibly creepy. She counts his steps to her table. 

* * *

Ben’s hands were shaking. Again. He tries unsuccessfully to calm the storm in his middle. He was just going to talk work with an employee over some coffee. Totally casual. He glares at the sky, cursing the rain that’s covered his glasses and flattened his hair to his forehead. He enters the shop, stopping to wipe his frames on a barely dry corner of his sweater, and looks around, searching for her familiar long brown locks and minimalist, classic style. His eyes slide over her once before he realizes it’s her.

Her hair’s mostly obscured by a gray beanie, the ends peeking out over the collar of a red and black flannel. Her slouchy black jeans are heavily ripped at one knee. And not the stylish kind of rip, it’s a real rip, the kind you get crawling over fences or climbing up trees. They’re tucked into a pair of scuffed, heavy combat boots, also authentic. Then he spots the Radiohead tee under her flannel and his heart stops.

He walks unsteadily to her table, the jell-o feeling in his legs reminding him of asking one Jenny Anderson to the prom his senior year of high school. He thought that was terrifying. But that was nothing compared to now.

“Hi.”

She cranes her neck up at him and a sweet smile touches her lips. “Well hello.”

“You look different,” he says, tumbling headlong into her sparkling hazel eyes.

She looks down at her outfit like she’s just now realizing what she put on. She fingers the collar of her flannel and then ruefully smiles at him. “Not my regular office wear.”

“No,” he agrees. “You’re perfect.” Her eyes go wide. “I mean IT’S perfect. The outfit. For this weather! It’s perfect for this weather. The rain and. The rain. Kind of chilly today. Not that you’re not, I didn’t mean to imply that you’re not…” He trails off and chews his lip.

Her eyes glint with suppressed laughter but it isn’t until she arches one eyebrow that he realizes he’s just staring at her.

“Are you going to sit down? Or get something to drink?”

He presses his lips together and just nods, setting his things down on a chair across from her. He wanders over to the counter, feeling her gaze follow him.

When he orders a triple espresso the barista pauses, eyeing his shaking hands. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

He balls them into fists. “Yes. I’m just nervous.”

The barista’s eyes shift over his shoulder to Rey and she chuckles. “Yeah, I would be too.”

He waits at the end of the counter for his drink, sparing one look at Rey. She raises her head the moment he looks over and holds his gaze for one second too long, an amused smile on her face. He breaks it off with a sharp inhale. _Bad. Bad idea. Stop looking at her._

“Good luck with your girl,” the barista murmurs to him as she hands him his drink. “Hold that with both hands or the cup’s gonna rattle.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, taking her advice, not registering the first part until he’s several steps away. Then he whirls around, sloshing some of his drink into the saucer. “No, she’s not mine. She’s not. Just – no.” He hurries away with blazing cheeks, trying to escape the barista’s burning stare.

Rey clears a spot for him at the wide table, brazenly watching him while he fumbles about, trying to set up his laptop and untangle his power cord. More than once he bumps the table and jostles both their drinks, foamy espresso spilling over the edge of his cup.

Finally, he sits up with a harried breath, carding one hand through his messy, wet hair. Rey’s still watching him.

“Hi,” she says with a wider smile, her eyes tracing his face. He tells himself he's imagining things when it looks like she lingered on his lips.

“Hi,” he echoes. Desperate for a safe topic, he tries to think about something work-related. Wasn’t that why he came here in the first place? But another question escapes instead. “What’s your favorite album?” He nods his head to her shirt.

She looks down and then taps her cheek with her pen, humming. “Don’t laugh,” she says in a shy voice, “but I truly love In Rainbows.”

He can’t stop the smile creeping across his face. “Why would I laugh? That’s a totally respectable answer. Besides, mine is worse.”

“OK Computer?”

He hangs his head in mock embarrassment. “Yes.”

“How cliché of you,” she chides with a chuckle. She feels other words crowding up in her, muffled but insistent. And completely illicit. “I’m going to get another drink,” she announces breathlessly, jumping up from the table.

She plays with the edges of her shirt while she scans the board. “Could I get a latte miel?”

The barista punches in her order and then nods towards their table. “First date?”

Rey tries to laugh but it just comes out as a wheezing squeak. “No. We’re just uh ummm. No.”

“Do you want that decaf?” The barista asks, looking meaningfully at Rey’s fidgeting hands.

“No, I’m just nervous.”

The barista stares at her incredulously, lips twitching like she’s trying not to laugh. She shakes her head to herself while she makes Rey’s drink. “Hold it with both hands so the cup doesn’t rattle,” she says to Rey, an odd look in her eye.

“Thanks,” Rey nods, carefully lifting the drink and walking back to her table with measured steps.

The barista watches the couple exchange a few words and then stare at each other in silence again, dumb smiles plastered on both their faces.

“Idiots,” she grumbles to herself.


	5. Let's make a bet

Ben finds a reason to stop by La Belle the next Sunday too. He’s strangely disappointed when he spies Rey in the same spot, hair smooth and wearing a pair of dark-wash skinny jeans, stylish loafers, and a white button-down casually half-tucked into her pants. She is the epitome of casual elegance but Ben finds himself missing that slouchy 90s grunge girl from the week before.

“You look different again,” he greets her. He notices she has makeup too, less than she wears to work, but definitely more than the bare-faced look of the previous week.

“Hi to you too.”

Ben blushes while he sets his bag down and walks to the counter to order. He turns over possibly reasons for the wardrobe change. The same barista is there, watching them intently. He leans in and clears his throat.

“Does she come here most Sundays?”

“Rey? Yeah, almost every Sunday since I started working here.”

Ben’s unsurprised they’re on a first name basis. “Does she um, how does she usually dress?”

The barista tilts her head with narrowed eyes. “Not like that. I’ve never seen her so dressed up. It’s weird. Are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

Ben gapes and then violently shakes his head. “Definitely not.”

The barista hums. “She mentioned a few weeks ago that she has a crush on some guy at her work, I thought for sure it was you.”

He chokes on his first sip of the espresso. “Hot,” he explains, voice hoarse. “Work crush? She didn’t mention a name?”

The barista shrugs. “I don’t remember, something with a P maybe?”

Ben’s heart sinks when he immediately thinks of Poe Dameron. Poe was handsome, charming, witty, and definitely never a nervous bumbling wreck.

 He brings his drink back to the table with slightly less spills than the week before.

“Something wrong?” Rey asks him as she studies his face.

He shakes his head stiffly. “No. Everything’s fine.” He watches thoughts flit across her face but she doesn’t share.

“Why are you so dressed up today?” Ben tries to ask casually but Rey catches an new strain to his voice.

She shrugs. “I feel kind of weird being around you and looking so sloppy.”

“You didn’t look sloppy,” Ben immediately counters. “I thought you looked nice.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Nice? Ben, I was wearing a Radiohead t-shirt with holes in the hem and dirty boots.”

Ben pushes the tiny spoon from his saucer around in a circle. “I thought it was cute,” he mumbles, almost inaudible.

“What was that?” Rey leans forward.

“Oh nothing, I just think you should be able to dress how you want on the weekend.”

The corners of her mouth quirk up and Ben’s heart squeezes. “You should be able to be yourself around me.”

She tilts her head, keeping her thoughts to herself once again. “Next week, I’ll wear what I want. Promise.”

* * *

Unlike the week before, they were actually getting work done, to Rey’s disappointment. Ben is bent over his computer, frowning at whatever was on his screen. Rey couldn’t focus, thinking about his earlier words. She couldn’t be herself around him. He couldn’t even fathom what that meant. Real Rey wants to take those frameless glasses off his face and trace the bridge of his nose. She wants to run her hands through his thick hair, to know how it feels, how it moves. She wants to –

“What is it?” Ben had caught her staring.

“How come you don’t wear your glasses at work?”

“I get headaches if I wear them for too long while I’m staring at a computer screen.”

“So you wear contacts during the weekdays?”

“Mhmm.” He yelps when Rey reaches over their screens and pulls his glasses off in one swift move.

She puts them on her face with a lopsided grin. “Wow, you have terrible eyesight. Like, truly terrible.”

“I’m sure you look ridiculous with those on but unfortunately I can’t see it.”

“Or fortunately, from my perspective,” Rey cackles. “How nearsighted are you?”

“Very.”

The amorphous blur of brown, peach, and white bobs closer to him, the edges of her growing less fuzzy as she leans around their computers and across the table.

“What can you see now?”

“Rey, I can still see you, you just look like a blob.”

She leans closer and her face begins to come into focus.

“What about now?”

“I can tell it’s you, barely.”

She leans even further, nearly laying across the table. “Now?”

His breath catches as her face fully resolves into its delicate lines. Her long, refined nose, almost dainty. Those small rosebud pink lips that could break into a blinding smile at any second. And her enormous eyes, with their shifting tones that he struggles to describe. _If you looked up at a forest and spun around until you were dizzy, that’s the color of her eyes,_ he thinks.

 “I can see you,” he says, voice edged with a husky smokiness she’d never heard before. She’s barely more than six inches away. If he leaned forward, he could kiss her.

* * *

The second barista comes out of the back, leaning against the counter. He shakes his head. “So they’re not dating?” He whispers to Ash.

She shakes her head back at him. “I can’t figure it out, Will. I mean, look at them!”

“Let’s make a bet. If they’re not dating within a month, I’ll cover two opening shifts for you, no questions asked.”

“Three,” Ash counters.

Will rolls his eyes. “Fine.”

“You’re awful confident.”

“Like you said, look at them. It’s a done deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who's commented!! (and read, of course). The response is really encouraging and I'm glad you guys are having fun. My other fic just got really dark and heavy and this is a nice break. I love to hear the feedback. I've decided the barista is going to be a recurring character.


	6. Stick shift

The next Sunday, Ben finds Rey sitting in the patio area, stretching out like a cat in the sun. He stops before he reaches her, his Adam’s apple bobbing when he takes in her outfit. An over-sized vintage Led Zeppelin t-shirt barely reaches the top of her thighs. She stretches her arms farther overhead and he spots the edges of a pair of shredded cut-offs underneath. Her toned legs are completely bare until her loosely tied Converse high-tops. His shadow falls over her and she props her sunglasses onto her head, looking up at him with a playful grin. “I look different again.”

A smile plays on his lips. “That’s my line.”

“I don’t want to work today,” she announces.

“What do you want to do instead?”

“Let’s go for a walk.” She rockets out of her seat and shoves things in her bag.

It gives Ben a moment for his thoughts to start back up, right up until she takes a sip from her iced latte, lips sealed around the straw in a perfect O. They leave a smudge of brick-red lipstick behind. With uncharacteristic boldness, he reaches out and tugs on a piece of hair sticking out from the two buns atop her head. “You were born in the wrong decade.”

“Hey!” She swats his hand away, but she’s smiling. “I grew up during the 90s, I was just too young to appreciate the fashion. So I’m doing it now. Come on, you can put your stuff in my car while we walk around.”

He whistles appreciatively when they get to her car. “I did not expect this,” he admits, admiring the sleek red coupe.

“V6 engine. Six speed. I rebuilt it myself,” Rey says proudly, running a hand over the frame.

“You drive stick?”

“Since I was 14.”

“We have to take a drive someday so you can show off your stick skills.” His face turns bright red when he realizes the second meaning. “I mean! That’s not what I mean. Like your skills with the car.”

Rey throws her head back and laughs, a trilling giggle that lodges in his insides. “You took it there, Ben.” She smirks at him while his face turns an even deeper shade of red.

She sidles up to him, slipping between his body and her car. “I’ll show you my stick skills soon, I promise.” She gives him a wicked smile and then plucks his bag out of his arms, turning away to deposit it in her trunk. “Do you want to go for a drive instead?”

“I wouldn’t say no.” His voice cracks slightly.

“Get in,” she commands, spinning her keys around one finger. He complies, tucking his large frame into the bucket seat. She straps in, then shimmies in place and nearly moans. “I love the feel of leather on bare skin.”

Ben isn’t religious, but he starts praying to every deity he knows to help him. He desperately wishes he had his bag to place over his lap and hide the growing bulge between his legs that he's sure Rey would see. The engine roars to life and she slides a hand over the steering wheel when the sound shifts to an idle purr. She hums with satisfaction again, the throaty noise going straight to Ben’s cock.

Suddenly she leans across him and he’s accurately aware of her pert breasts brushing against his chest. “Seat belt, Ben,” she murmurs, her breath warm against his cheek. A quiet, strangled whine escapes his throat but the engine’s rumble drowns it out. At least, he hopes it does. She fastens his belt and then runs a hand along the cross-strap, drawing it tight. She pats his chest and snickers. “You’ll want this snug.”

* * *

 

Rey’s driving gives him a respite from his white-hot thoughts. She weaves through traffic, takes road signs as suggestions, and zooms down side roads.

“You’re going to kill someone,” he says weakly when she barely pauses at their fifth stop sign.

She sighs. “I always check for bikers, pedestrians, and stray children. Chill Ben. I’ve never been in a car crash.”

He gives her a skeptical look. “Never?”

“Nope.”

“What about speeding tickets?”

“There might be a few of those,” she admits sheepishly.

“What a shock,” he mumbles, gripping the edge of his seat tighter.

They’re out of the city before long, zipping through rolling hills and gentle curves that Rey handles like a pro. She shifts with the ease of breathing and Ben tries so hard not to imagine her hand somewhere else when she grips the head of the stick shift.

Rey grins while she drives, singing along to the blaring music, one hand out the open window, curving and turning against the wind. She shouts questions at him over the roar of the open road, always laughing at his terrible, nervous jokes. When she looks at him - escaped wisps of hair whipping around her face, skin glowing from the evening sun - there’s a heat in her gaze that Ben knows he isn’t imagining. The barista has to be wrong, he thinks. There can’t possibly be a work crush who has a name beginning with P. 

They stop on a bluff overlooking a river. Rey plops onto a patch of lush grass, pulling him down next to her. She’s staring at him again and he can’t look away.

“You shouldn’t look at me like that,” he half-whispers, a thought that's tumbled out from some keening, forbidden place. 

“Do you want me to stop?”

He traces her bottom lip with his thumb and her breath catches. “Never.”


	7. The Girl In the Red Dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry an update has taken so long! I've been crazy busy with work and trying to keep up with my other WIPs and of course writing a complete new one since I don't have enough already.

Rey stares at herself in the mirror, taking inventory. Pieces of hair that escaped from her buns curl around her face. A rosy hue stains her cheeks. Her eyes are wild and dark. Hungry.

She leans forward to look at the shadow on her bottom lip. It’s barely noticeable, the tiniest spot where Ben’s finger took off some of her lipstick. She closes her eyes and imagines the moment over and over. The way her heartbeat drummed so hard that she felt it down her arms. The liquid adoration swimming in Ben’s eyes as he watched her breath stutter and stop. Her lips begin to tingle again, echoing the unbearable throb between her legs. She leans against the bathroom wall, one hand unhooking the button of her shorts and dipping below her waistband. She teases herself, imagining Ben’s hand inside, that broad span and those thick fingers and how they’d feel pumping against her slick walls. With a gasp, she glides a wet finger around her clit, probing, testing. She presses harder, sliding over it until pleasure shudders up her spine and her legs shake. She slips another finger inside her hot slit and clenches around them, diving deeper and deeper into the fantasy.

Ben is growling in her ear, moaning against her skin, rolling a nipple between his fingers. His hard cock is pressed against her hip, her body is writhing against his as he pushes her closer and closer to ecstasy.

“Ben,” she cries out into her silent space, sagging against the wall as pleasure rushes over her. Panting, her head clunks against the wall. She could come again. She could come three more times. But it would never be enough. There was no substitute. She wants to see his raven locks spilled against her skin as he worships every curve of her body with his lips. She wants his strong hands tangled in hers. She wants it all.

* * *

 

A quiet, uneventful week passes. Ben and Rey don’t talk much. He leaves much longer spaces between his texts back and asks less questions, as if their closeness that weekend holds him back. Rey grows more frustrated each day, her limbs filling with a nervous, restless energy.

“Let’s go out this weekend.”

Finn pulls out his earbuds to answer Rey. He scans her up and down before grinning. “I don’t know where this new Rey came from but I like her a lot.”

“I’m thinking that new queer place, Sugar? Poe says he’s a fan of it.”

Finn’s eyes light up. “Perfect. What are you going to wear?”

She chews her lip against a smile. “Remember that red dress you talked me into buying? I still haven’t worn it.”

Finn whistles. “That was _some_ dress. It’s basically sex in clothing form.”

Rey tucks a piece of hair into her messy bun. “It’s time. I’m dying to get laid.”

Finn’s jaw drops and he glances over his shoulders to see if anyone heard before folding his hands over his chest. “Okay, what did you do with the real Rey?”

She giggles, a note too high, her eyes skittering over a couple rows of desks towards a certain-someone’s office. “I just feel differently lately. Powerful.”

An inscrutable look flits over Finn’s face but he covers it with a quick smile. “I definitely want to see the new you in action.”

Later that night, Rey steps out of her bathroom and strikes a pose for Finn. “What do you think?”

He whistles and twirls her by one hand. “You vixen. You look ah-mazing.”

She giggles nervously, smoothing the silky fabric over the curve of her ass and admires her form in a mirror. “I feel so exposed. But also sexy. It’s perfect. Okay, help me pick out some shoes.”

* * *

 

Ben surveys the darkened room punctuated by flashing lights and the pulsing crowd with distaste. Hux and Phasma had begged him to come to Sugar until he relented just so they would stop asking. He was currently nursing a drink in one corner, leaning against an empty cocktail table. He watches Hux and Phasma on the dance floor, both growing closer by the second to the pair they’d picked up at the bar. He didn’t know how they did it. They always managed to find that _one_ couple no matter where they went.

He tugs at the collar of his black cotton tee underneath his black blazer. It feels weird not to be wearing a button-down and tie with his jacket. He forces himself not to pull his phone out of his pocket to check for a text he knows isn’t there. Rey hasn’t spoken to him all day. His mind reminds him that’s a good thing, but his stomach aches with an unfamiliar hollowness.

A small group enters the main room and a flash of red catches his attention. The red moves closer and he inhales too quickly, taking the burn of his whiskey sour with it into his lungs. He tries to muffle his coughs and choking sounds but nearly everyone around him is already looking his way. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the red move closer. Fuck.

“Ben,” Rey greets him breathlessly, standing a safe distance from his table. He tries to keep his eyes on her face as he gasps through the last coughs, but he can’t help it. They wander down, over her slender, athletic frame, currently clad in a crimson slip dress that clings in all the right places. The wide V teases her perky breasts into view and the smooth satin fabric reveals the tight buds of her nipples. The hem falls mid-thigh, leaving the slope of her toned, golden legs exposed.

“Rey,” he wheezes. “Hi.” A group clusters behind Rey. One of the members he recognizes, Finn, another developer on Rey’s team, but the rest are strangers.

“I’ll meet you at the bar, guys,” she tells them over her shoulder, gently urging them off. Finn shoots her a warning look but Rey furtively waves him away behind her back.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” she tells him, taking a step closer.

“Me too,” he manages, a distant part of his brain hoping that was a coherent answer. The rest is still stuck on the image of her in that red dress.

She takes another step, resting her forearms on his table. Her eyes roam his face. “Your hair is getting long.”

He self-consciously fingers the ends which just now brush his shoulders. “Yeah, I need to get it cut. I’ve been putting it off.”

She smirks, leaning closer. “I like it. It looks a little dangerous.”

“Dangerous?” He echoes, his voice strained.

“You always have that good-guy haircut. So neat. I think this looks nice.” She flashes him a sultry smile that feels like lightening in his chest. “It’s very-” her eyes roam his face, “-touchable.” Her hand strays upwards as if she was reaching for his hair, but she snatches it back, rubbing the side of her neck. “I should get back to my friends. Good to see you.”

“Yep,” he confirms, voice even weaker. “You too.”

* * *

 

Ben hovers in the corner for most of the night, occasionally disappearing into the crowd when Phasma or Hux forcibly pull him to the dance floor. Rey finds herself angled so she has a clear view the entire night. She dances with a guy, buys a drink for a woman. The woman places a warm hand on her thigh while they chat at the bar, but Rey doesn’t ask for her number.

Anyone she takes home would just be a stand-in, she thinks glumly while she dances with her friends. She doesn’t want to do that to anyone.

Rey notices that Ben seems angled towards her as well, but he’s often talking to someone on the other side of the table, so she can’t tell if it’s coincidence or design. Based on the number of his stares that trail her around the entire night, it’s by design.

The room gets hot and the pressing crowd starts to feel overwhelming. She taps Finn on the shoulder and points to the patio door, shouting about getting some fresh air over the throbbing bass.

She snags a chair at an empty table, sighing with relief when the weight comes off her tired feet. Her eyes hover at the door, a part of her hoping Ben will follow her outside. _That’s ridiculous,_ she tells herself. _He’s not here for you._

“Is this seat taken?” A muscled man who clearly spends too much time on his arms and skips leg day, wearing a light pink polo sits down in the chair across from her, the smell of his cologne smacking her in the face. “I couldn’t stand to let such a sexy lady sit alone, that’s just a waste.”

Rey smiles politely, internally groaning. Getting rid of a club-bro is the last thing she wants to do right now. She just wants to sit in peace before braving the crowds again.

The bro leans forward, his hand inching towards her thigh. “Can I buy you a drink, baby?”

“She’s not your baby,” a deep voice snaps at the bro from behind him. Startled, Rey looks up at the dark figure looming over her unwanted suitor. Ben moves close to her and places a protective arm around her shoulders and smiles at her. “Sorry I’m late sweetie.”

Ben glares at the man with the heat of a thousand fires and the man practically shrivels under his gaze. He jumps out of the chair and backs away. “Whoa, sorry man, I didn’t know.”

If Ben was a dog he’d be baring his teeth, Rey thinks. He turns back to her and she has to tip her head all the way back to meet his smoldering eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers, barely catching her own words over the sudden cacophony of her heart. Ben hasn’t dropped the charade yet and his arm burns a heavy line around her shoulder, the hard muscles of his chest just barely brush against her side. Rey doesn’t so much as twitch, torn between wanting to lean into him and knowing she should pull away.

He makes the decision for her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” he sputters, yanking his arm away. The sudden coolness of the night air on her bare skin makes her shiver. He pulls his blazer off a second later, offering it to her.

She refuses with a shake of her head. “I’m fine,” she insists, another shiver betraying her words.

His lip twitches in annoyance (or amusement?) and he sweeps his blazer over her, flaring it out like a cloak before settling it over her shoulders. She clutches gratefully at the warmth, pulling it over her chest. “Thanks. I wasn’t prepared.”

Ben takes the seat left empty by the fleeing bro, unable to tear his gaze away from Rey as she looks down, adjusting his jacket around her. He’d given her his jacket because she was cold, but also so he could have a coherent conversation with her without the expanses of her perfect golden skin taunting him.

They sit in awkward silence for a while before both talking at the same time.

“Do you come-”

“I didn't expect-” Rey breaks off and laughs. He motions towards her to go first.

“I didn't expect to see you here, of all places.” She internally winces when she realizes she said that earlier.

His eyes flash and a tiny smirk tugs at his mouth. “Are you saying I'm too boring for clubs?”

She chuckles delicately and bites her lip. “I'm just saying you seem like the type to prefer a book and a comfy chair over flashing lights and ear-splitting music.”

He tilts his head and Rey thinks it's ridiculous how adorable that tiny gesture is. “If I knew I'd see you somewhere like this I'd go out more often.” Fuck, he berates himself. What is wrong with him? Something about her turns off every mental filter he has. He's more grateful than ever that his overgrown hair covers his ears, which he's certain are beet-red.

Her lips curl in a playful smile. She loves this, pulling these tiny confessions out of him that they both know he should keep to himself, and she craves another one. She stretches a bit, letting his blazer slip back on her shoulders, and then folds her arms across her chest, just enough to boost her cleavage and leans forward to rest her crossed arms on the edge of the table. She can feel her nipples, pebbled from the cold, strain against her dress, and the gulp Ben takes tells her he can too.

“Can I tell you something?” She asks in a conspiratorial tone.

He just nods.

“I don't go out much, but I came here tonight hoping to um-” she smiles bashfully and looks at her lap “-take someone home.”

He makes a strangled noise that he tries to cover with a cough. “That's um, that's, uh not what I expected you to say.” He shifts uncomfortably. “Well I'm sorry I chased that guy off then, didn't know you were on the prowl.”

She stretches a leg and hooks the heel of her shoe over the footrest at the bottom of his stool, her calf every so lightly pressing to his. “I'm glad you did. He's _really_ not my type.”

His eyes grow dark, almost possessive. “What is your type?”

She inches her leg closer, the curve of her calf unmistakable against his, and leans in even further. “Tall, big brown eyes, and with touchable hair.”

His eyes press shut for a moment as he scrambles for something to say. When he opens them again, his pupils are blown wide. “Is that so,” he says, voice cracking. “Did you have any success?”

She chuckles, breathless and sultry. “There is one guy.” Her eyes slide down his broad shoulders to the ripple of his massive biceps. “ _Really_ my type.”

He opens his mouth to respond, but Rey’s phone dings, interrupting him. She glances down at a message from Finn. “Time for me to go,” she tells him, voice colored deeply with disappointment, and possibly a little relief. Once again, she'd pressed up against that invisible line they kept, one that grew weaker by the day. She hops off her chair, moving to take his blazer off. His hand shoots out, clamping it on her shoulder.

“No, keep it, it’s cold. I can get it Monday.” _Or Sunday._ Her lip quirks and he can see his thought in her eyes, she was thinking about Sunday too.

Rey almost laughs. “What do I tell my friends?”

Oh. His mouth twists. He lets his hand fall from her shoulder.

“Exactly,” she says, slipping it off her shoulders and handing it back. Their fingers bump against each other and his chest hitches.

“See you later,” she murmurs, close enough for him to feel it on his skin. His voice gets stuck in his throat so he just nods helplessly and she snickers softly. She leaves the patio with one tiny glance back, a look that's brief and searing and reveals that she completely understands what she does to him.

Ben groans as soon as she disappears, reaching between his legs to adjust his uncomfortably twitching cock.

 _Gotta go, something came up_ he texts Hux immediately after ordering a Lyft. He hopes the driver doesn't notice the slight tenting in the front of his jeans. He counts down the moments until he gets home, rushing to apartment as fast as possible. He doesn't even make it further than the front door before he rips off his pants and boxers, taking his fully hard cock in hand. He moans as he strokes the length of it, twisting his giant palm over the red, pulsing head.

His mind crowds with Rey, with her flimsy dress and teasing eyes. He imagines her sauntering closer, sliding her hand up his thigh until it's her grabbing his cock and massaging it through his clothes. He runs his hands up her thighs, finding the globes of her tight ass. In this scenario, she's not wearing panties. He hadn't noticed a single underwear line when he'd seen her tonight, and the thought that she actually _was_ bare and accessible just makes him harder. He finds her slit and she's sopping yet. _Fuck Rey, you're dripping,_ he tells her. _Only for you,_ she breathes, yanking down his clothes so she can touch him unhindered. She drops to her knees and takes him into her mouth, sucking up and down the shaft. He thrusts into his hands as he thinks about her hot and wet around him. The slap of his hand becomes her slurps and moans as she works his head and shaft. And when he comes into his hand, it's her throat that devours the thick milky ropes of his cum.

He slumps against his door, panting. A second later, shame engulfs him. _You're disgusting,_ he tells himself. _Thinking about your employee sucking you off._ He feels like a cliché, a horny boss who can't think of anything else except fucking one of his subordinates and he knows everything about it is morally reprehensible. But he can't shake the memory of the heat in her eyes and her leg pressed to his, and the blatant allusion to wanting him that night. It doesn't matter, he reminds himself. It doesn't matter how desperately he wants her or how certain he is that she feels the same. He can't, he just can't.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rey is a thirsty thirsty girl and Ben is just fucked. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
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> [Rey's dress](https://www.pinterest.com/pin/101401429087656391/)  
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	8. Hiatus

Hi all,

I'm going on a reylo writing hiatus for a while. I have no idea for how long. Writing reylo stuff has gotten to be more of a stressful chore for me instead of a fun treat and I hate that! I also am dealing with a major bipolar relapse and I need to focus on finding stability again. I'm not abandoning my fics, I'll definitely be bac to finish them someday. Thank you all for your support and encouragement and all the kind lovely things I hear from you! I feel so lucky <3


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